8. Fantasies

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Today's first bonus chapter is dedicated to Santoro. Thank you for your support!

I'll try to get at least one chapter of The Last New Start out today as well, and maybe another one of this story. If anyone else would like to keep seeing new parts of this book more than once a day, supporting me on Patreon is a good way to keep the pressure on!


"Treating me like a baby!"

"Huh?" I answered, before wondering if it would have been better to say nothing at all. I'd barely been paying attention to the girls talking around me, too busy checking why my phone wanted my attention. It had turned out to be nothing important, but then I'd wound up dismissing a bunch of useless alerts, in my own little world until those words grabbed my attention.

"This babysitter," Callie explained, presumably repeating herself. I felt bad for a moment, knowing that I should make more of an effort to listen when my friends felt the need to vent. "Like, I'm old enough to look after myself, right? But they got this weird girl in to keep an eye on me, and it's like she's used to babies. Like she makes dinner, doesn't even ask me what I want, and then... ugh, it's crazy."

"Yeah, right?" Maggie chimed in. "Sounds kind of creepy to me. I'd hate that so much."

"Yeah," I nodded. I wasn't sure what the right response to that would have been. But a whistle on the far side of the yard grabbed our attention with the news that it was time to play.

"You never really know what's on somebody's mind. Unless they tell you of course. But they're always too embarrassed."

"Yeah," I nodded. "Wait, what?" My mind had still been on the conversation before today's game. I was standing next to Mum now, drying dishes after dinner while she washed them. I wouldn't normally volunteer for a chore, but she'd looked so drained when she got in from work that I felt like I had to help out.

"Nothing you've done, Sal. Just weird reminiscences. Like, years ago you used to come to us with every scraped knee, every triumph and every disappointment. If somebody pulled your hair or said something mean we'd know about it, and every time the teacher gave you a gold star you'd be rushing to tell your father when you got home. Do you remember that?"

"Not really," I laughed, and fumbled the mug in my hands, but managed to catch it before it hit the counter. I thought it was ironic that she was remembering my childhood on the same day Maggie was venting about being treated like a child. I didn't remember much about being a kid, but I was sure I'd been happier then. Maybe it was just nostalgia; you only remember the good bits. Or it could have been thinking about a time when my Dad was still healthy. "You said I was a handful."

"That you were. But I loved you for it, you know? When you were young I'd be solving every problem for you, keeping you safe. And sure it kept me busy, but I was sharing in your joy too. Now, I only find out what you're looking forward to if it's big things like this tournament. You might tell me when you have a test at school, but not if you're worried about it. I don't know which classes you breeze through and which you're struggling with. I'm not sure you'd tell me if you had a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend, I guess. You don't, do you?"

"Mum!" I gasped, surprised she would even ask that. "You know I wouldn't–"

"You would!" Lindy's voice came through from the dining room, where she was drawing something on her tablet. "You're just too shy to talk to him. Standing at the side of the road and watching, you think nobody notices–"

"Linda! If Sally wanted to talk about those things, I'm sure she'd do so herself. She doesn't need you being a pain about sensitive subjects. Not another word." And then she turned back to me. "I know what it's like, dear. If I can offer any advice, you only have to ask. And you can tell me who you've been dreaming about when you want to. If you want to. I know that you're not a little kid anymore, and you can talk to your friends more easily than your mum. But I'm here."

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